So are you guys familiar with this whole American Idol thing? I'm really not, although tonight's show did stir up some vague memories of a show I watched some of back in 2002. Don't worry, though; it seems very similar to The X Factor, whose first U.S. season I just finished weecapping last month. So I should be able to walk you through this.
The season premiere is all about what a venerable institution American Idol is, as we get to meet a slew of eligible 16-year-olds who were only six when Kelly Clarkson was first crowned. And what do you suppose they're all doing on American Idol now? I have a theory. Ryan Seacrest promises that this season will be told largely from the point of view of the contestants. Because that's the main complaint most people have about American Idol after all: not enough schmaltz. Settle down, AI, you're not the Olympics. Yet. Steven Tyler takes credit for taking the show "over the top" last season. Jennifer Lopez claims that she and the other judges are like family now, and Randy Jackson cements his role as the Ziering of what the new (to me, at least) title sequence is now all but calling, simply, Idol. What's wrong with the rest of the title? Why does the Fox network hate America?
We start with lots of "contestant cam" shots of people starting their day and heading into the city that's the host for the first day of auditions: Savannah, Georgia, a city I love and miss dearly. As the judges arrive at the riverfront hotel that serves as the audition venue (the Hilton, if my ten-year-old memories serve), a reporter stops Steven to ask how Savannah's treating him. He tells her Savannah's treating him fine, "But I didn't know you knew her." Wocka wocka wocka! That'll teach her to live in a city with a stripper name.
The first contestant we meet is a 17-year-old kid named David Leathers, Jr. who wears a smug grin, a tie and an untucked shirt, and sunglasses inside. Apparently he's such a ladies' man that his friends at school call him "Mr. Steal Your Girl." Or at least that's what he tells the camera when he's away from all his friends at school. We learn that a couple of years ago, he apparently placed first in a singing competition against some guy named Scotty McCreery. I sense that name should mean something to me. David presents himself to the judges, who are still early enough in this process to not only be interested in his schtick but actually encourage it somewhat. He sings for them in a high, clear voice, and does so well that they ask for an encore in the form of a Michael Jackson song. Because, you know, he's a young black kid and thus has to sing some MJ. They're so impressed that they give him a three-way yes in unison. At least they rewarded the hoop-jumping.
Coming back from the ads, we go back to the beginning of the day, with the 10:30 start time and the local media circus that allows American Idol to show its viewers what a big deal American Idol is. Then we meet 16-year-old tap dancer Gabi Carruba, who interviews that she's more excited to meet Ryan than anything else. In the audition room (which seems eerily quiet to me after the auditorium auditions of The X Factor), Gabi's so b-side she asks the world-famous judges for permission to run over and hug Nigel Lythgoe, who's lurking off-camera. That done, She sings "Sunday Morning" by Maroon 5, making Steven make that sideways dreamy/farty face she told Ryan she was hoping for. They love her. Three yeses. So far not a lot of drama this season.
Montage of some more decent singers, like Brianna Faulk, Neco Starr, Molly Hunt, a very bluesy blonde named Elise Testone, and a bunch more people who are going to Hollywood and whose names we may or may not ever see again. The judges tell Ryan it's going great, and Ryan tells us from the riverfront that so far everyone has gotten through, making one of their best starts ever. Not that either he or I have the time or the inclination, respectively, to research that right now. Now that he's jinxed it, it's time for Jessica Whitely, 19 years old from Ohio, to sings "In This Song" in a loud, piercing Fozzie Bear voice to crush the fuck out of that streak. When she's done, if I thought that audition room was quiet before, it's now tomb-like. After a long, long pause, Randy declares it "awful," and she gets a unanimous no. But her exit line seems to strike terror into the judges' hearts: "See you in Texas." And then the editors give us a little side-by-side comparison of the original recording and Jessica's vocal faceplant, because horrible people are funny.
Coming back, there's a montage of Ryan's long years of people trying to steal his job from him. That's a segue to meeting a kid named Shaun Kraisman, who looks a bit like Ryan himself, but sounds exactly like him. He's got Ryan's cadences and inflections down, and he's even shown up for auditions in a black suit and tie. His whole Seacrest-lite routine is totally distracting to the judges, and Ryan doesn't help when he comes in to stand to him and encourage his schtick. At some point Shaun gets to sing "Oh, Girl," rather overdoing it and getting a no. "See you time on American Idol!" he Ryans to the camera as a farewell. Yeah, he clearly got what he came for: a place to launch his career as a Ryan Seacrest impersonator, which will comprise many lucrative years of getting to say things like "This...is Toyotathon.".
The audtioner is a 15-year-old, six-foot-tall Amazon named Shannon Magrane. She plays volleyball, and the judges interview her a little bit about her sports background, which includes a father who once played in the World Series. Of course the judges want to meet him too, and so Shauna trots her whole family in there: her mom, a whole coven of sisters, and of course the ex-baseball pro dad. He shakes hands with Steven, asking how Boston is. "Hot humid, and happenin'," Steven cracks. "Just like your daughter!" Awkward silence, which Jennifer breaks by commenting, "What a beautiful family." Good thing there's a diplomat in the room. Shannon sings an Etta James sing with her whole family clustered around her, and her mom in particular getting waaay into it. Randy and Steven are impressed with her guts for singing in front of her family, and she gets three yeses. The Magranes herd themselves out and launch into a celebration that spills through the whole hotel. Going to break, Ryan waxes literary, saying it's "midday in the garden of good and evil." And he goes out of his way to make it sound like there's going to be a lot more evil than the other thing.
Coming back, we get a montage set to the song "Devil in Disguise" of good-looking people who can't sing for shit and are quickly and rightfully turfed, each with a better understanding of why they never have to leave the bar alone on karaoke night. But then comes Amy Brumfield, from Tennessee. And she lives in a tent, because apparently that's all she and her boyfriend and dog can afford. We get to see their homestead in the woods, in the rain no less, and it's depressing as hell. It's like Bizarro Cribs. It doesn't help when she tells us that her dress, necklace, and shoes are all borrowed. Fortunately, she sings "Superwoman" by Alicia Keys, rather well and in a voice full of campfire smoke. Randy likes her tone, Steven says something about the spirits of the woods, and Jennifer calls her a "Hipsy," whatever that is. She's through, so I guess she'll have to borrow another dress for Hollywood.
Up is Joshua Chavis, whose dream is to sing the national anthem at a NASCAR race. Well, who's stopping him? Oh, maybe he wants a microphone. He is simultaneously both Southern good ol' boy and yet extremely fey. In the waiting area right outside the audition room he lets out a scream that startles the judges, then manages to clip the door frame in his way into the audition room. He sings "I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz, managing the remarkable feat of hitting every note and yet being completely unlistenable. Not to mention his jazz-hands of a face that Randy mocks throughout. They tell him his voice isn't up to snuff and send him on his way. "Wow," Steven whispers sadly. Joshua heads back out to the lobby to cry on the shoulders of his support network, and on his cell phone, and at the camera, which he swears at and flips off. Okay, I guess we have some drama.
A very nervous 15-year-old named Stephanie Renae is , and we get to hear all about how she's been watching since she was eight. So she's a relative newcomer, then. She's singing a Carrie Underwood song, since Carrie's her favorite Idol. She sounds good, and the judges tell her so, but J. Lo advises her to sing less through her nose, as well as some other tips from the other judges. Steven says yes, Randy says not yet, and Jennifer casts the swing vote: Stephanie Renae is going to Hollywood. Now I'm the one who's nervous. Maybe after X Factor I'm just a little gun-shy about potential finalists whose last name sounds like "Rene."
We come back at 4:00 PM, and flash all the way back to Season 10, when Schyler Dixon and her brother Colton auditioned. And Schyler's auditioning alone this year, stepping out of her brother's shadow blah blah Olympics athlete profilecakes. The judges are happy to see her again, but more disappointed that her brother isn't with her. In fact, they make her go back out and haul him into the audition room so they can give him a hard time for not auditioning. Whose audition is this, anyway? They at least have the decency to let Schyler sing first. They politely sit through her rendition of "Barely Breathing" before immediately turning to Colton and hauling him up on the Oval. He's all "Don't make me sing," but eventually busts out a David Cook song while Schyler watches from the side with increasing annoyance. For someone who wasn't planning to audition, his performance is pretty damned polished. Once he's done, the judges call Schyler back, and they send them both through to Hollywood. "Well, that was unexpected," Schyler tells us on her way out of the audition room, with some asperity. And if she's annoyed, imagine how the thousands of people who never made it into that room must feel. She runs out and into the arms of her parents, who look pretty surprised when Colton follows her out with a Golden Ticket of his own, all "Aw, shucks." This is a time bomb, and the show knows it.
Montage of crying rejects, set to Patsy Cline's "I Fall to Pieces." "They said I was emotionless," one youngster sobs ironically. Then we meet Lauren Mink, who works with developmentally disabled adults. After seeing her at work in her happy dreamy job, we get to hear her sing "Country Strong." Good move, that; you see all these aspiring divas taking on Whitney and Mariah, but this girl sets her sights on Gwyneth. Very canny. The judges love her, and Jennifer even gets goosebumps. Three-way yes, so she'll be going to Hollywood. But first she goes out and hugs her ma, who tugs down the hem of Lauren's short skirt for the cameras. She's not going to be doing that all season, is she?
Apparently, it's really hot in Savannah on day two, to the point where there's a montage of contestants pouring bottled water on themselves while they wait outside. Good luck getting your hair right again. Eventually the judges get there, do their prep (with some snarking from J. Lo about the boys' habitual lateness and makeup regimen), and are waiting for the contestant. That would be a young man named Mauwena Kodjo, from West Africa. "This doesn't seem convenient," Ryan understates. His whole intro package is about how he's a deluded country singer wannabe, with the kind of accent that seems to call for subtitles even when we can understand him. You know those times when they set up someone as a sleeper contestant who seems like they'll be terrible and then they're awesome? That's not the case here. He actually is terrible. The judges are nice enough to him (nicer than the editors are, certainly), but Mauwena makes the mistake of promising to prove them wrong. Randy takes him up on it, inviting Mauwena to come back with people who think he's awesome. So Ryan starts walking through downtown with Mauwena on his quest to find fans on the street, because it's not like he has anything else to do. It seems like a fool's errand, but eventually he finds a family of four preteen girls and their obviously deaf grandfather, who willingly head back to the venue to plead in Mouwena's behalf. Alas, it's no good. Ryan comes back out with them all, telling Mouwena's fans, "You froze up in there!" Sure, blame the tourists who just wanted to come see the town.
is joy-hop inventor Ashlee Altice, who looks about 16 but is a 28-year-old sales associate. Oh, do I need to explain what I mean by "joy-hop inventor?" Basically she made up a kind of hip-hop dance that's mostly hop and precious little hip. She looks and comes off like a low-level crazy, like a three on a scale of one to Orly Taitz, but is able to pull off "Come Together" well enough to earn three yeses. Sometimes the nuts get through. And you know what that means: more nuts in the future. Just when I was about to congratulate them on scaling back the freakshow.
Montage of the judges breaking bad news to some more rejects and sending them on their disappointed way. One of them seems to a stocky blond guy who comes out with Ryan, who comforts him, "You still got a lot of good news here with the family." "That's right, we got a baby on the way," dude says to his gobsmacked clan. Flashback to three minutes earlier, when we first meet the unemployed W.T. Thompson, from Appomattox. Which is a place I've heard of, but he says it's a small town. I guess he would know. He tells us that he QUIT HIS JOB to audition. With a six-and-a-half-months-pregnant wife, no less. His audition is a little rough, and Ryan's talking to W.T.'s people outside in the hall. Mrs. Thompson explains that this is W.T.'s chance to pursue his dream, since he won't be able to do things like this when he has a kid. IN TEN WEEKS. Are we sure his last name really is Thompson and not something that begins with F? Inside the audition room, Steven says he doesn't think W.T. is ready. Jennifer thinks they can work with him and gives him a yes. Randy stretches out his moment as the swing vote, warning W.T. he'll get eaten alive, and then we get a replay of the moment when W.T. exits with Ryan, looking somber. But then W.T. snatches his golden ticket out of Ryan's hand to wave it triumphantly. See, they were just funnin'. Sending us to break, Ryan remarks, "I like it here." Something he and I agree on. Savannah really is lovely, especially if you have three minutes to take a 20-block walk.
Ryan introduces a whole montage about how the ladies are into Steven Tyler, complete with a montage of him flirting with auditioners and their grandmothers. I had no idea there were still so many fans of those Spitting Image puppets. Anyway, it just serves as an intro to crazy-eyed Erica Nowak, who informs us, "Steven Tyler is my future ex-husband." She's not sure she'll be able to control herself in front him. Once she enters the audition room, Randy pours gas on the flames by encouraging Steven to hug her. Which he does, getting his ass grabbed in the process. Erica jokes that she's ready to go home after that, but then she sings "Super-Duper Love" by Joss Stone anyway. Yeah, she should have quit while she was ahead. Randy also gets a hug and an ass-grab, and Erica gets to leave happy.
Ryan comments about Steven and Randy's "liberal" behavior with "pretty girls" in the room last season. And right on cue, here's an NBA dancer named Brittany Kerr, who comes in looking like a sluttier version of Carrie Underwood. Steven says yes before hearing a note. She also sings a Joss Stone song, at least well enough to overcome the disadvantage she faces as a result of being smoking hot. The guys both give her a yes, and even though Jennifer doesn't think Brittany's ready, she's through to Hollywood. Gotta keep the teenage boys tuning in, after all. And their dads.
We get a brief recap of some of tonight's 'standouts, some of whom I've already forgotten. Then we meet a Missouri galloot named Phillip Phillips, Jr., who works in his dad's pawn shop. How colorful, especially when they play the theme from Sanford & Son. His dad, Phillip Phillips, Sr, marvels on camera about how amazing it is to see his son succeed. Especially with the handle he hung around the kid's neck. Phillip, Jr. is the last one of the day, and he comes into the audition room carrying an acoustic guitar, while Mrs. Phillips flirts with Ryan out in the waiting area. Phillip sets his guitar down to sing a growly, tempo-free version of Stevie Wonder's "Superstition," which is bold and original and I really don't get it at all. The judges seem to dig it more than I do, and they even invite him to pick up the guitar to do something else. And then -- get this -- he does a bluesy, solo-acoustic version of "Thriller," of all things. I'm glad they asked him to sing again, because that's actually pretty cool. It's like seeing Dave Matthews trapped in the body of that kid who plays Willard in the Footloose remake. They gush over him for a while before going through the motions of a vote and unanimously, unsurprisingly, sending him on to Hollywood. Yeah, I know it's early, but I think we have a frontrunner. Ryan tells us that 42 people got through from the Savannah auditions, and it seems like we see all of them for about three seconds each. "We came! We won! We saw! We are!" Randy misquotes as they get up from the Savannah judges' table for the last time. Jennifer, voicing the thoughts of a nation: "What?" So much for Savannah. Tomorrow: Pittsburgh. This wasn't nearly as bad as I feared. But again, it's still early.